


Seek, and You Shall Find

by owlish_peacock



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 19:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13933464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlish_peacock/pseuds/owlish_peacock
Summary: After rescuing Claire from Randall, Jamie becomes quickly infatuated. But there are secrets that could mean danger for the both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Jamie’s blood ran hot and cold, alternating between the ice of vengeance and the flames of anger.

The bright red of his coat was unnatural in the woods, an infection that could cause a sickness on the fertile land. Something the world should be rid of immediately.

But, Jamie considered himself an honorable man. Stubborn and passionate, but honorable. He’d never consider killing a man with his back turned.

At least, that was before Randall appeared in the clearing before him, unsuspecting and unarmed. Washing his hands in the creek.

No, it wouldn’t be right. But, the sound of shots and yells from behind created an echo in his brain: There’s a fight going on. Who would ever know it was you?

No. He would know. And could he forgive himself? Eventually. Maybe.

Jamie stretched, feeling the friction of his shirt on the long healed scars on his back. That gave him pause; another contemplation. Could he? Should he?

No.

The wind whipped around him, and he lifted his face, nostrils flaring. He smelled the tang of blood in the trees around him, remnants from the attack. He heard the distant cries of his kinsmen, the sharp clanging of metal, a low sound from a wounded animal.

He opened his eyes, taking one last glance at Randall, and turned. A flash of white caught his eye, and made him stop.

Nestled against the rocky crag was a woman. She was roped, tied hand and foot. Bruised and beaten, he only saw glimpses of her pale skin between the purple and black spots that littered her body. She was stripped down to her shift, the flash of white that had caught his eye.

Was this Randall’s doing?

That was a stupid question. Of course it was. Randall was capable of anything, Jamie had learned quickly. Beating and binding a small woman was just one of his crimes.

Jamie’s feet were moving before his mind could catch up.Instinct. He felt much less human than he ever had, crouched and sneering. He didn’t feel the weight of the sword in his hand. He didn’t feel the earth beneath him. All thought, all energy was focused on the bright red of his target.

Muscles tensed and rebelled against the foreign object being plunged within them. But, it was too late. The sword went through Randall’s back, the tip sticking out of his heart. And he collapsed.

Jamie stared at the colorless face, black eyes stared unseeingly back. A dishonorable death. But, did he deserve any better?

Jamie had no time to ponder such inquiries. He jogged to the woman, her eyes wide and frightened. But she did not flinch when he pulled the gag out of her mouth.

“What’s yer name?” Jamie asked. She coughed and spluttered, but did not answer. He noticed her mottled throat, bruised from fingers pressed tightly against it. His face grew hot. “It’s okay. Do ye trust me?”

Her eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head. No, of course she wouldn’t.

“Aye. I suppose not. Do ye trust me more than him, though?” He motioned to the corpse by the creek. “Or any of the other soldiers about?”

She nodded without hesitation then.

“Come wi’ me.” He cut her ropes with his dirk, and lifted her into his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

The woman’s shaky ‘trust’ in Jamie became immediately evident as they continued to ride. Slowly, slowly her head began to fall backward, resting on his shoulder. Her soft snores echoed in his ear against the strong breeze.

The need to protect something so defenseless strengthened. Jamie pulled her closer with his free hand, careful not to irritate any possible injuries on her torso. 

It was strange, this protectiveness. He had felt it before of course; for his sister, his family, sometimes even the horses. But, never for a stranger.

Perhaps he felt a kinship with her, both having been on the sharp end of Black Jack Randall’s sickness.

Perhaps…perhaps he wished someone would have protected him.

***

Jamie rode hard, eager to be away from Redcoats and kinsmen alike. He needed to speak to this woman before effectively handing her over to the MacKenzies. However, she still slept peacefully on his shoulder, despite the roughness of the ride.

They would have to stop soon to water Donas. And then…then they would talk.

***

Jamie heard the bubbling of a nearby creek. Pulling the reigns, he steered Donas toward the sound.

“Mistress? Mistress?” He shook the woman gently, trying to wake her from her rest.

She started, then, head popping quickly in the air, a hairsbreadth from knocking Jamie’s teeth in. She began to struggle, catching herself just in time before toppling off the horse.

“Mistress, mistress. It’s me, remember? From the creek?” She whipped her head back to glance at him over her shoulder. She had a proud profile, and Jamie thought that perhaps she was lovely underneath her bruises. “I’ve got to water the horse. I thought… perhaps we could talk.”

She stared at him, judging, contemplating. Her eyes looked him up and down. The were honey, he noticed, but not sweet. Shrewd. Intelligent. Wary.

_And can ye blame her?_

Her head bobbed once, a quick nod of acquiescence.

***

Jamie hobbled the horse, letting him graze gently on the fertile land surrounding the creek. He didn’t tear his eyes away from the woman, however. She had wandered to the water’s edge to carefully wash her damaged skin.

Once Donas was settled and munching happily, Jamie walked to her, slowly as to not startle her again. He dropped down on the bank as well, careful to give her space. She didn’t look at him when he sat, though. Her eyes were transfixed on the rippling current before her. He knew she didn’t truly trust him, that her faith in him came from the fact he was the lesser evil of two men. But, it was just the two of them for the moment, and he hoped to gain her favor. He wanted to help.

“My name is Jamie.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but did not face him. The same cold shrewdness was still hidden in those depths. “What’s yours?”

He watched her throat bob, working against the bruising and swelling that hindered her voice. Finally, a quiet rasp: “C…Claire.”

“Weel, Claire. How did ye find yerself here?”

She scoffed, and finally turned to face him. In another whispering croak, “Long st…story.”

“Aye, alright. Later then.” She turned away from him, clearly not looking forward to the prospect of ‘later.’ “Listen, I ken ye dinna know me, and my word means nothing to ye. But, I promise to keep ye safe.”

“D…Don’t lie. You don’t kn…know me.”

“That’s true. But, I know Randall. Knew Randall,” he amended. “Whatever ye did…ye didna deserve that bastard’s ire.”

Jamie watched Claire’s throat move again, straining. “You don’t know th…that.”

“A truly evil person does no fear, for he has nothing to lose. And ye were frightened, I saw yer face. Am I wrong?” No response, but a small shrug. “I didna think so.”

“I… I didn’t do anything. I’m not a c… criminal.” She was looking straight at him then, eyes still wary but sincere.

“No, I didna think ye were. But, we’re at the mercy of the powerful, are we no? Their truth and the actual truth can sometimes differ.”

Another small shrug. Then a nod.

They sat in quietly, the bubbling water loud against the uncomfortable silence. Both of them contemplated Jamie’s words, feeling them weigh on their shoulders for they had both been at the mercy of someone else’s truth.

Donas stamped his feet impatiently, breaking the semi-tranquility.

“We’d better go.” Claire was startled by his voice, tensing slightly. “I’m sorry, I didna mean to…”

She waved him off. “Wh… where are we going?”

“Weel, we’ll be heading to Castle Leoch. But first we must meet up with the other men.”

“Other men?” For the first time since Jamie rescued her, Claire looked truly afraid of him.

“They’ll no hurt ye. I’ll make sure of it.” He could tell she didn’t believe him. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Ye think I’m lying?”

“N… no. Just don’t m… make promise you c… can’t keep.”

“Dinna worry. I won’t. Come.” He held out his hand to help her. She was still weak from her injuries, and the lack of food and doctoring wasn’t helping her.

“Y… you said earlier you kn… knew Randall. How?”

He thought she had put it perfectly earlier. “It’s a long story. Come on, we have a long way to go.”


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at a crofters cottage an hour later. A dozen horses were hobbled in front; the other men were already there.

Jamie felt Claire stiffen, muscles contracting in fear. He placed a hand on her shoulder, caressing with his thumb. Calming her like a skittish horse.

“Do ye remember what I said? That I wouldna let any harm come to ye?” A sharp nod. “I dinna make promises lightly, Claire. Yer safe with me.”

As she dismounted Donas, Jamie noticed her limbs shaking with effort. She was much weaker than he first thought. He wondered when she last ate.

“Let me tie up Donas, and then we’ll go inside.” Another sharp nod, and she turned her back toward him.

For the first time since they met, Jamie saw Claire as a woman. The setting sun shone through her thin shift, clearly outlining the slim shadow underneath. A lovely nipped in waist flared out to an even lovelier round…

But, he shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. She was injured, frightened, and he was her protector. He turned his head, guilty.

“Mistress? Could ye come here for a moment?” She did, grass crunching beneath her bare feet. Jamie shrugged out of his coat, and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on.”

Claire cleared her throat, still swollen and raspy. “W…why?”

“I promise ye that men willna hurt ye. But I canna promise that they willna look.”

She looked down, as if she had just noticed her undress. And perhaps she had. Being in her state, Jamie thought clothing was probably the least of her worries.

She slipped into the coat, and it practically consumed her. The sleeves too long for her arms, the hem came to her knees. But it covered her, and the woolen garment would keep her warm.

“Are ye ready, Mistress?”

***

Jamie led Claire into the cottage, keeping her behind him. He wasn’t worried; he knew the men wouldn’t hurt her. It was mainly for her, to give her peace of mind.

“ _Jamie!”_  He recognized Rupert’s boisterous voice in the dim lighting. “ _We were worried the English got ye! Thank God! We dinna ken…_ ” He paused, seeing Jamie’s shadow.

Every man glanced their way simultaneously, it seemed. It would have been comical in any other situation. As it were…

“ _What have ye got there, lad_?” His uncle, Dougal, came forth into the firelight. His eyes were pale and calculating, the lewd possibilities of Jamie’s meeting with this half-dressed woman flashed behind them.

 _“This is Claire. I found her_.”

_“Ye found her?”_

_“Aye. Randall had her. Tied up and beaten.”_

_“Randall! Christ, and what did he say when he saw you?_ ” Jamie knew what Dougal was insinuating. That he was reckless, stupid. That Randall knew he was alive now, and would hunt him to the edge of the world. And all for what? A girl?

 _“Nothing. I ran him through_.” A short ‘whoop’ came from the dark corner Rupert faded into.

 _“Ye killed Randall_?” This was Murtagh, his usual monotone voice sparking with interest.

_“Aye, I did.”_

Murmurs waves across the room, all favorable. But, Dougal wasn’t having any of it.  _“Now we’ll have the whole British army after you! After us!”_

 _“No one saw, Uncle._ ”

_“And how do ye ken this woman wasn’t…wasn’t planted there to tug at yer tender heart? Ye know nothing about her!”_

_“Are her bruises deception as well? Or has she-”_

_“We canna trust her! She’s could be a spy! Did ye ever think about that, ye idiot?!”_

_“I dinna-”_

_“Excuse me_.” The raspy voice broke through, distracting with its staccato Gaelic.  _“I mean no harm. You can trust me_.”  

The men were taken aback by this small English woman, speaking to them in their own language. No secrets, then.

“Claire.” Jamie leaned backward, speaking to her in an aside. “I didna ken ye spoke Gaelic.”

“I…I’ve lived in Scotland most of my l…life,” she explained. Turning to the men: “Please. I j…just want a safe place to stay.”

Dougal’s eyes narrowed, wariness apparent. He wouldn’t believe this strange woman so easily. Jamie knew that from the start. But, he didn’t put too much weight in what his uncle thought. “Fine. She’ll come with us, and we’ll puzzle it out later.” He leaned in, inches from Claire’s face. “But, I dinna trust ye. One wrong move, and my dagger might just slip…”

She raised her eyebrows, daring him. But, Jamie saw the slight tremble of her hands.

***

They all agreed to stay in the cottage until nightfall. Until then, the men seemed happy enough to munch on stale bannocks and warm whiskey.

Claire had wedged herself in between Jamie and Murtagh on the splintered floorboards. She took quick nibbles of her bannock, much like an overly large squirrel.

“D’ye want mine?” Jamie reached over to hand his own dry bread to her, but she pushed it away. “Come, Mistress. Ye need it more than I do.”

She looked down, her bannock mostly eaten. Sighing, she relented. “H…half. You need some t…too.”

“Fine. Half.” He broke it in two, making sure to give her the larger portion.The three of them listened quietly to the other men, regaling the tales of the redcoats they bested.

 _Thud_.

“Christ!” Angus, though small in stature, had fallen to the ground loudly, holding his leg. Most men started at the sound, and began crowding him in curiosity. 

Rupert stepped over to him. “What happened?”

“Damn English shite knocked me off my horse earlier. I didna think much about it then.”

“Did ye at least get him back?” Rupert asked, eyes twinkling.

A toothless grin spread across Angus’ face. “Aye.” He gasped again, his grip on his leg tightening.

Jamie glanced to his left, opening his mouth to speak to Claire. But, she wasn’t there.

She had crept over to the commotion in the middle of the cottage. Kneeling in front of Angus, she spoke soothingly. “Let m…me see.”

Angus, surprisingly, was speechless. He did not argue. Instead, he held out his injured leg to her.

She grasped it, feeling around. “It’s n…not broken. Your knee is out of p…place. If someone steadies him, I c…can fix it.” When there was no response, she looked around at the men. “Now.” Rupert, ever the friend, grabbed Angus by the torso, holding him.

“This w…will hurt.” A twist and a push, and with a pop, Angus’ leg was back in place.

Dougal caught Jamie’s eye, giving him a self-satisfied smirk.  I told you so, it said.

And he was right. There was more to this woman than Jamie first thought.


	4. Chapter 4

After riding on horseback for a full day, the dull gray stones of Castle Leoch were a welcome sight. Jamie could feel every man sigh in relief as that large shadow came into view. All except one, that is.

Claire’s tension grew with each passing step. As the foggy outline of the castle sharpened, her muscles tightened under Jamie’s hands. He tried his best to soothe her without speaking– an arm around her middle, a thumb caressing her shoulder. He did not want to draw attention to themselves.

Claire had put on a brave, hardened face for the other men in the party. But, as her body weakened– from pain, from hunger, from exhaustion– so did her resolve. The fear became apparent in those tawny eyes, and her initial anger began to dissolve. She looked lost.

He only hoped that some of his own strength would seep into her. Entering a world full of strangers is no easy feat, Jamie knew. Especially for this English woman in the Scottish countryside, where all she had was that weakened brave face.

***

There was no grand welcome when they entered the courtyard. The few people milling about greeted them quickly before going about their business. All except one.

Mrs. Fitz was a small, plump woman with contagious energy. The keeping of the castle took stamina, which she seemed to have an endless supply of. “Yer back! Wonderful! I’m sure yer starving. Plenty of food in the kitchen.”

With a rustle of skirts, Mrs. Fitz made her rounds. With a ‘Hello,’ and a pat on the shoulder, she sent them away to eat.

Jamie wasn’t exactly sure how to explain Claire to Mrs. Fitz. He supposed the truth was his best option, but would Claire want everyone to know of her situation?

“Angus, what happened to ye?” Angus was limping, an arm slung around Rupert’s shoulder for support.

“Ach, a soldier knocked me off my horse. Dinna fash. Our traveling nurse fixed me up.” He nodded toward Claire, who was still astride Donas.

Jamie reached up to help her down, but she stiffened at the new found attention. Mrs. Fitz was staring, at a loss for words.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Mistress Claire…” He realized for the first time that he didn’t know her last name. She never said it.

At the sound of her name, Claire relaxed, shaking herself from her thoughts. “Beauchamp,” she croaked. “Claire Beauchamp.” She then placed her hand in his, and he heaved her to the ground.

“Well, Mistress Beauchamp, this is Mistress Fitzgibbons.”

Claire inclined her head politely, and Mrs. Fitz mirrored. “Well, Claire. How about ye come with me? Ye look as if ye have some injuries that I could help he with.” She wrapped her arm around Claire, and began to lead her toward the castle.

Jamie watched as they left. Claire turned back to him, her eyes wide and fearful, before disappearing around the corner.

***

Jamie did not see Claire for the rest of the day. He knew she needed her sleep, more than anyone else. However, his worry did not subside.

When she didn’t appear in the hall for dinner, he sought out Mrs. Fitz.

“Mrs. Fitz!” He found her by the kitchen hearth.

“Jamie, lad!” She stretched out her arms to him, and he gladly accepted her embrace.

“Hello. Um… where is Mistress Beauchamp?”

“Mistress Beauchamp? Claire?” 

“Aye.”

Her forehead creased. “She’s still in her room, I believe. I havena seen her since this morning.”

“Was she all right?”

The lines on her face deepened with sadness. “Aye, I suppose as well as she can be. Considering…”

“Considering…?”

“What she’s been through.”

“Did she tell ye everything?”

“Nay. But she told me enough. I’m sure she’ll be up and about tomorrow, though. Dinna fash, dear. She just needs her rest.”

Jamie nodded. His worry hadn’t abated, but he was comforted a bit by Mrs. Fitz’s presence. “Thank ye.”

***

Mrs. Fitz was wrong. Claire didn’t show up for breakfast the next morning.

Jamie wasn’t sure was sure what possessed him… But, he decided to go see her.


	5. Chapter 5

Jamie crept down the corridor. Mrs. Fitz mentioned that she put Claire in the empty room on the second landing. After climbing the stairs, he realized he wasn’t sure which room was the empty one…

Zagging through the hall, he began tapping on doors. After a constant stream of “Hmmm?”s and “Who’s there?”s, Jamie thought perhaps he had misheard Mrs. Fitz.

But he hadn’t. He knew she was close by. He could feel it.

Feel it? What does that mean, Fraser?

A beat. A pulse that grew stronger as he grew nearer. But perhaps it was just his own blood rushing in his ears…

When he reached the sixth door, he poised his hand to knock. The quick raps echoed in the stone hall. But that was the only answer.

He tapped again; perhaps the inhabitants didn’t hear him. Still no answer. Was this her room?

Without thought, he pushed the door open. Surprisingly, it wasn’t locked. Jamie peeked from around the door, the room seemingly empty. He would have left, had he not seen the unkempt bed heave.

He saw her then. Turned away from him, her body was lumped under a quilt, her dark hair twisted on the pillows. He stepped in the room.

Relief washed over him. Here she was, safe and resting in her bed. There was no need to worry. But he couldn’t find it in himself to leave.

He watched her, the small rise and fall of the quilt a comfort. One pale shoulder twitched, exposing itself. Bare. It made him wonder if she was completely bare under her coverings…

Wait. He shouldn’t be here. Staring at a sleeping woman was… inappropriate to say the least. He turned to leave, shame staining his face.

A weight fell on him, pitching him onto the floor with a shaking thud. Claire crouched above him, recognition lighting her face. She straightened up, brushing off her shift.

“Jamie!” She held out a hand to help him stand. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was you…” Her voice rang clear; the bruises on her throat had faded.

“Nay, lass. I shouldna be skulking about yer room.” He grabbed her proffered to steady himself as he rose. She was warm. Heat emanated in pinpricks, like sparks escaping a fire. An odd sensation, but not unpleasant.

“Is everything alright? I mean, did you need something?” Jamie was distracted by her voice, heard properly for the first time. Low and smooth, like a fine whiskey. “Jamie?”

“Hmm? Um… No. I… I…” He cleared his throat, hoping to clear his thoughts in the process. “I just… wanted to make sure ye were… okay. I havena seen ye in a couple days, ken? I was… worried, honestly.”

“Oh! Well, thank you. That’s very kind. I’ve been quite tired, but… I’m alright.” She held out her arms in demonstration, quickly realizing she was just in her sleep wear.

Jamie tried not to notice.

Quick as a snake strike, she had the quilt off the bed and draped around her. But the sight of Claire in her shift was already burned into his mind. Of course, he had seen her in such undress before when he met her, but this was different. Now clean and mending, standing next to a bed… He was sure he would dream about that.

“Well, I… uhhh… apologize, Mistress. I’ll just… I’ll leave…”

“Wait.” Jamie’s heart fluttered. She wanted him to stay. “Thank you. Really. No one else has checked on me. Well, besides Mrs. Fitz. She’s about as close to an angel as a human can be.”

“Well, it’s truly no trouble. I glad yer beginning to feel better.”

“I’ll make it up to you sometime.”

“Ye dinna need to…”

She shrugged. “I know that.”

***

Jamie began walking Losgann as soon as he arrived at the stables. The only pregnant mare at Leoch, Jamie liked to make sure she was well taken care of. He had grown fond of the cinnamon-colored female, and he knew she would foal a horse as strong and lovely as she.

“Oi, Jamie!” Old Alec yelled to him from across the stable, causing him and Losgann to jump simultaneously. “Who’s that?”

Jamie squinted in the diffused sun. A feminine figure emerged from the trees, and he instantly recognized that curly chestnut hair.

“Mistress Beauchamp!” He exclaimed, with a small wave. She waved back.

“Hello!” She approached the gate carefully, eyes on Losgann. “ _Hello, sweet girl.”_

“What are ye doing out here?” He looked over her quickly, her sickly yellow bruises brighter in the sunlight. Though, he supposed yellow was better than deep purple. They were healing, at least.

“Well, I told you I would make it up to you, so…” She shook the basket hooked on her arm. “I brought you a bit of lunch.”

“Oh, aye? That was kind of ye. Would ye care to join me? I just need to put Losgann back in her–”

“Thank you, Jamie. But I can’t. Now that I’m out of bed, I must meet with the Laird…”

“Ahhh.” Jamie nodded in understanding. “The great Colum Mackenzie.”

“Your uncle, I hear.”

He turned sharply. “Who told ye that?”

“Oh, a little bird told me…” She blinked owlishly at him, teasing.

“Aye, and I’d wager that little bird’s name is Glenna Fitzgibbons.”

She grinned. “Perhaps.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Ah, well. ‘Tis no secret.”

“To be honest, I’m a but nervous…”

“Ye dinna need to be. Colum is a strict man, but he means well. His brother, Dougal, on the other hand…”

“Good to know. Thank you.”

“No trouble.” He didn’t want her to leave, but they both had their duties. “I suppose I’ll see ye…”

“At dinner.” He eyes were piercing, compelling. He couldn’t say no to her, even if he wanted to. Which he did not.

“Aye. Dinner. Sounds lovely. I’ll save ye a seat.”

“Wonderful. Goodbye Jamie!”

“Bye, Claire.”

He watched her turn and walk away, her fingers trailing through tall grass about her waist.


	6. Chapter 6

The day dragged, as days so often do. No rest for the weary, and Jamie was just that: weary. The unusual heat of the day drained him, and left him a sweaty disarray.

One thing kept his mind occupied through the trials of his work: dinner. No, not just dinner, although he was sure it would be delicious if Mrs. Fitz had a say in the matter. No, it was dinner with Mistress Beauchamp that kept running through his head.

Perhaps they would talk and laugh together. Perhaps he would walk her to her room. Perhaps he would kiss her hand goodnight.

And perhaps not, but the thought kept him outwardly spritely despite his exhaustion.

A small, deep part of his mind, though, scolded him for being a fool. He only met this woman four days ago, and here he was, swooning over her like young lassie.

_But, a wise man knows himself to be a fool…_

***

“Jamie? Jamie, lad? JAMIE!” Murtagh’s dark face peered over the fencing, impatience written in his eyes. “I’ve been here fer a guid 5 minutes. Where’s yer heid?”

Jamie liked to think he hid his emotions well, but even he could not stop the flush that crept up his cheeks. He turned away, brushing out Donas’ fur. “Nowhere.”

“Lies. I ken ye better than anyone, and I ken exactly where yer heid is. Under the skirts of a certain sassenach.”

Jamie dropped the hay. “Murtagh..”

“Am I wrong?” The silence was answer enough for him. “She’s bonny enough, despite Randall’s best efforts. But it’s no a guid idea to get tangled wi’ someone like that.”

“Someone like what?”

“A sassenach, for one. A sassenach that ye just met days ago, imprisoned by the British army.”

Jamie walked up to him, boots stomping in the overgrown grass. He was a good head taller than Murtagh, but, even so, his scowl was intimidating. It made Jamie feel like a child again. “I was imprisoned by the British once. Wrongfully, I remind ye.”

“Aye. But yer a Scot. Look at them wrong, and they’ll have ye in ropes. But… she’s English.”

“So?” Jamie asked, petulantly.

“So… they dinna just arrest their own without some sort of cause. A grievous crime, or some such.” Jamie didn’t answer. He didn’t have anything to say. “Think about it.”

“She’s no dangerous,” Jamie blurted.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who can say? Did ye happen to notice the ring on her finger? But no mention of a husband to send her to?”

_And it’s a fool that thinks himself to be wise…_

*** 

Murtagh’s words wrapped tendrils of doubt around Jamie’s mind. How could he be so sure? He knew her even less than Jamie did!

No matter how he tried to convince himself, the doubt still remained, sticking in his brain like a cocklebur. He almost didn’t return to the hall for dinner.

Almost.

But, he did. Searching, his eyes immediately found Claire, a bright light in the orange fire glow. Without a thought, he began toward her.

She seemed startled to see him, but nonetheless pleased. “Jamie! Please sit. Sit!” She motioned to the empty space beside her. “Are you alright?”

Was his worry so apparent on his face? He fixed his face into a mask, one of carefree contentment. “Aye! I’m fine, Mistress. A bit tired, is all.”

“Long day, then?”

He took a bite of stew. “Mhmm. Very hot, too.”

“Yes, it was quite lovely. I spent most of my day outside.”

He had almost forgot. “How was yer meeting with Colum, by the way?”

“Oh, well–”

She was interrupted by a dark figure appearing in front of them. He looked back and forth between the two of them before letting out an undignified  “Hmph,” and sitting down.

“And hello to ye too, Murtagh.”

His mustache twitched. “Hmph.”

Claire pivoted, turning slightly away from the two men. That conversation was over.

***

“Let me walk ye to yer room.”

“Are you implying I’m drunk?”

“Nay. I just want to see ye safe. Many men would be happy to meet an unsuspecting sassenach in the dark.”

“Quite the gentleman.”

“When I want to be.”

Jamie and Claire began the winding journey up to her room. Of course, Jamie did want to see her safe, but he also wanted to keep talking to her.

“Your godfather doesn’t like me much, I noticed.”

“Murtagh doesna like anyone much, even me… How did ye ken he was my godfather? Did Mrs. Fitz tell ye that as well?”

She giggled, a symptom of her slight intoxication. “No, no. I heard you call him  _goistidh_  once.”

“Ahh, that’s right. The sassenach with the  _Gaidhlig_.”

She nodded carefully. “Mmhmmmm.”

“How did ye come about that, anyway?”

Her eyes narrowed, fingers twitches in concentration. “Well, my parent died when I was very young. No, it’s okay,” she interrupted when she saw his mouth open. “I don’t remember them much. My uncle raised me, and he lived in Scotland. He said I must learn the language of the people. At least some of it. He died when I was 16. My husband taught me the rest. He’s a teacher, knew a lot about Scotland.”

“And where is yer husband now?”

Sorrow clouded her face. “Oh. He… he died. About a year ago.”

Murtagh was right. She had a dead husband. But he couldn’t think about that now. All he could think about was the woman in front of him, tears dripping from her eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry, lass…”

He crushed her to him, hoping to keep her together with sheer force of will. “Thank you.” He voice was muffled by his coat. “There was… nothing to be done about it.”

“What do ye mean?”

She pulled away, cheeks reddened. “It was… his heart just gave out. I couldn’t save him.”

“Of course not, lass. No one could have.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Perhaps not.”

“I didna mean to bring up a sore subject. Ye should get yer rest.”

Claire seemed surprised to be at her door. “Yes. Thank you for… everything.”

“No trouble, lass.”

“You say that a lot. That it’s no trouble.”

“And I suppose it isn’t.” He bowed his head slightly in her direction. “Goodnight, Mistress.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Jamie knew that the awful things Murtagh predicted about her weren’t true. At all. She was sad, and broken- hearted about her departed husband. No one could fake that, no matter how impressive their acting may be. And Claire was no actress, her face a glass window to her mind.

_We are all but fools in love._


	7. Chapter 7

Her skin was smooth, the finest of foreign silk. A scent–her scent– attacked his nostrils, fine and musky. Earthy, but undoubtedly feminine. Her thin fingers caressed his back, steadily tracing the scars that marred the skin. Long legs were hooked loosely around his own, small feet rubbing gently against his calves. **  
**

She assaulted his senses. She was the air around him, surrounding him with her touch, her taste. He couldn’t escape, didn’t want to.

“Claire…” He moaned into her ear, lips brushing the soft shell.

She rolled her hips against his in response– an entirely new sensation for Jamie. A quiet giggle whispered from her lips, much like the one from earlier that evening. “Yes, love?”

Love? Surely, he must be dreaming. Only in dreams did wishes come true so thoroughly.

“I… I want ye, Claire.”

Her legs rose, and hooked around his thighs. She pushed her hips again until their centers were flush. They groaned in unison. “I’m here, Jamie. Have me.”

“I… I don't… I think…”

“Don’t think. Just do. Please?” Her heels dug into his arse, urging…

So he did, pressing into her slowly… slowly… until all he could feel was warm slickness. He crushed himself to her, the hardness of her nipples poking into his chest.

He began to move without thought, a motion as old as time itself.

“Jamie… Jamie, please…” Her voice rasped, the shallow breaths interrupting her words. “Oh, God…”

She seemed to glow, as if lit from within by a candle. The world around them darkened; she was the only light.

“Oh… Oh…”

“Claire, I canna…”

***

Jamie woke, surrounded by hay and shit, cock in hand. Of course it was just a dream…

***

Jamie kept watch of Claire from afar. Perhaps it was the embarrassment after his dream that caused him to keep his distance. For weeks, he could not speak to her, could not look her in the eye without flashes of pale legs and full breasts filling his vision.

She didn’t seem to notice, though. She kept herself busy, surrounding her in the greenery that was the Leoch gardens. He saw her mind work as she contemplated each plant, each herb. Her lips moved quickly, whispering secrets to herself.

Sometimes she was joined by Geillis Duncan, wife of the local fiscal. Most times, though, she was alone. In those times, he felt compelled to join her, reach out to her. But her never did. His excuses came readily: he did not want to interrupt her, he was embarrassed by his dream.

Deep within his mind, a subconscious part, though, he knew the truth. He felt strongly about this woman, an emotion pulsed through him that he had never felt before.

He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t know it fully himself. But it frightened him.

***

The stream bubbled softly, lulling Jamie into a gentle daze. Thoughts escaped him– dreaming without falling asleep.

This was his place, a place he came to be alone. It was far enough from the castle grounds that others didn’t stumble upon it. It was truly nothing special, just a clearing beside a brook. But Jamie held it in high regard; he told his secrets to this earth.

“Jamie.” He started at his name. He knew that voice, but he turned anyway. Claire stood amongst the trees, halfway hidden between two trunks. A faerie, she seemed to be, comfortable and glowing in the nature surrounding her.

“Mistress Beauchamp, hello. How did ye find me out here?”

She walked over to him as she spoke. “Well, I saw you, and I called your name. But I suppose you didn’t hear me. So, I followed the red hair.” She motioned to the mop in question.

“Oh, aye? Did ye need anything, then? Please, sit.” Jamie moved over, giving her enough room to perch on the rock beside him.

“Actually, yes. I wanted to speak with you.”

“What is it, Mistress?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of fact.

“Avoiding ye? No, no, that’s no…”

She continues as if he hadn’t spoke. “I was just curious as to why. I mean… I hope I haven’t offended you in any way.”

“No, Sassenach, ye haven’t.”

“Is it your… umm… your lady? Did you not want her to get the wrong… idea about us? I would hate to get in the way of two people in love.”

He had no idea what she was speaking of. Love? “Wait. I’m sorry, Claire. My lady?”

“Oh… umm… yes. The pretty girl with the yellow hair?”

“You mean Laoghaire?”

“I suppose. I saw the two of you in the alcove by the kitchens.”

Jamie would have been grateful to disappear. He could feel his cheeks burn red. She saw that? “Oh… ummmm… no, no. That's… that isn’t my lady. That didn't… that wasn't… anything.”

He couldn’t look Claire in the eye. “So, you just kiss girls without meaning it?”

“N-no! It’s just… she kissed me! And then… I just… I didn't…”

“You didn’t stop her?”

God, what did she think of him now? A man with no morals? A man that takes advantage of women? He chanced a peek at her. A glint sparkled in her eyes, one side of her mouth turned up.

She was teasing him. Oh, Jesus.

“Yer mocking me.”

She didn’t deny it. “A bit,” she said through a chuckle.

“Verra funny.”

He felt a sharp elbow in his ribs. “Oh, come on. Just a bit of teasing. I was serious about you avoiding me, though.”

He couldn’t tell her the truth. “It’s just been… a hectic couple of weeks, is all. I’m sorry.”

“No, no! You’re fine! I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t upset you in anyway.”

“No,” he reassured with a smile. “Ye hadn’t.”

She grinned back before turning back to the stream. They both watched the water in silence. What was she thinking?

He watched her from the corner of his eyes. She sat as a statue, except for her hands. He watched her fingers twirl the gold band on her left hand, a hypnotizing steady rhythm.

“Ye miss him, don’t ye?”

“Hmm?” She followed his line of sight. “Oh, yes. Very much.”

“I’ll listen, if ye want to talk of him. I ken it helps sometimes.”

She turned, staring straight at him. A deep sadness clouded her face, her eyes a sunset disappearing into a starless night.

“His name was Frank…”


	8. Chapter 8

_“His name was Frank…”_

“Frank.” Jamie tested the man’s name, weighing the worthiness of it. It was a fine name, but too English in his opinion.

Well… Claire was an Englishwoman after all…

“Yes. After my parents died, I moved to my Uncle’s estate outside Edinburgh. Frank’s family owned the neighboring property.”

“And that’s how the two of ye met?”

Claire hummed in assent. “We were the same age. We were both a bit lonely, I suppose. He was the youngest of four brothers. And I had no siblings to speak of. So, we just… we gravitated towards each other.”

Jamie couldn’t help the jealousy that rose within him, an ugly beast that pounded on the walls of his chest. He shouldn’t have felt this way; he had no claim on the woman. And, yet…

“Anyway, we married, lived a comfortable life. He was a tutor. I was a healer.”

“Is that what ye use those plants for? I didna ken that…”

She blushed a bit, just a light pink coloring her cheeks. “Oh, um, yes. It’s a bit of a… passion of mine, if you will.”

“Ye know, we need a new healer here at the castle. Perhaps ye could speak to Colum about that.”

“Perhaps…” But she didn’t seem convinced.

“Hmmm. I’m sorry, though. I interrupted ye.”

“Oh. No, it’s alright. I… um…” Her chin dropped to her chest. She watched as her fingers deftly pleated her skirt. And a small, shimmery droplet caressed her cheek.

Though Jamie’s mind was a bit dumbfounded, his body reacted immediately. Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her closer to him on the rock until she was secured at his side.

“Shhh. It’s alright, Claire. If ye dinna wish to speak anymore…”

“No!” Her tone was defiant, almost angry. “No, someone needs to know the truth. Others think they know, but they don't…”

Jamie waited silently for her to continue. If that’s what she wished.

“I went into town one day this past winter. To get medicinals and such. I tried to get back home, but… the snow. It was too heavy, too thick. I had to stay at an inn.”

He felt her body expand and contract next to him, breathing deeply. Preparing herself.

“When I returned home the next day… Frank… he… he was just on the floor. Just lying there. He… he died in the night. I didn’t even get to… get to say goodbye.”

He felt nothing but sympathy for Claire. Death was never easy for the living. “I’m so sorry. To lose such… such love. To have found a true, passionate love, and have it all disappear. It must have been… I dinna ken….”

She smiled then. A small smile, but a touch of humor gleamed in her eyes. “I think you misunderstand. When I tell you I loved Frank, I mean… I loved him as my own blood. A brother, of sorts. There was no… romantic feelings. For either of us.”

Jamie felt the confusion evident on his face. “Was your marriage arranged, then?”

“No, no. Our marriage was one of… protection.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I’ve had an affinity for healing, plants, nature… for as long as I can remember. As a girl, it was not a huge problem. Just a girl playing. By as I grew older, grew past the prime marriage age, people talked. For, surely, I was a witch.

“People in the countryside can be a bit closed-minded. So, we married. Because, don’t you know,” she drew sarcastically. “That a man steals a witch’s powers away?”

“What about Frank? Did he no have any other lassies that caught his eye?”

Claire tilted her head from side to side. Jamie could see her thinking, choosing her words carefully. “Um, no. Frank has–had– a certain… preference for those he… entertained.” She saw his bewilderment. She smiled wryly. “Lassies were not a part of that…”

Astonishment. “He preferred the company of other men?”

Claire scoffed. “Indeed. So, we protected each other. I kept him from prison, he kept me from the pyre. Because that’s what friends do… they protect each other.”

“Why are ye telling me all of this? I mean, I ken I told ye that ye could, but… this is more than I was expecting.”

He felt her shrug. “I guess I trust you.”

“Weel, that’s good. So… ye’ve never been in love?” He must have become possessed. By an angel or demon, he wasn’t sure yet.

But, she turned to him, eyes wide and melting. “I… I don’t know.”

He bent down, confidence surging through him, and pressed his lips gently to hers.

She molded to him, mouth wide and pliable. She didn’t pull away, didn’t shimmy out of his grasp.

When they finally pulled away, Claire spoke first. “Did  _that_  kiss mean anything?”

She was teasing him again.

“Aye.” He smiled, and bent down to continue. But she stopped him.

“Wait. There… there’s something else I need to tell you. I… I need to be completely honest with you.”

Jamie’s forehead crinkled. “Okay…”

“Frank… he… I… Frank’s full name is Frank Randall.”

“Randall?”

“Yes. Exactly what you’re thinking. Jonathan was his brother.”

“He arrested his brother’s wife? Beat his brother’s wife?” He was angry. Red and hate filled.

“He never liked me much. I was never good enough for Frank. And when Frank died… Well, he… he blamed me. That’s how it all happened when you found me. Arrested me for murder. I… I should have told you sooner. I should have–”

But Jamie silenced her with his lips.

He grinned wryly. “Dinna fash, Sassenach. The Redcoats say I killed a man too.” She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s no true, though. After I was flogged–”

“You were flogged?!”

“Aye. They flogged me twice. For obstruction and theft. A few friends helped me escape prison. I could barely hold on to a horse, let alone fire a pistol to kill a man.”

“Jamie!”

“Hmm?”

“That’s… that’s just awful!”

“Dinna fash too much. It does no pain me anymore.”

He watched as Claire’s eyebrows creased. Many emotions flitted across her face. Concern was the most prevalent. “Did… did Jonathan flog you? Is that what you meant when we first met? That you knowing him was a ‘long story’?”

“Aye. Though, I suppose it isna so long now that I tell it. What are ye doing?!”

As he spoke. Claire began loosening her fichu, exposing the long column of her neck and chest. Though Jamie wasn’t particularly  _angry_  about it, he didn’t appreciate the temptation in front of him.

“Another thing we have in common. He… Well, he didn’t flog me. He whipped me. With his riding crop.”

She turned away from him, showing her newly exposed upper back. Though far less gruesome and quite a bit smaller, her scars were evident in the sunlight. Thin and silvery, like a spider’s web. Barely visible against her pale skin, but there they were, hardly raised from the skin.

Jamie felt his features twist in disgust. Not at the scars themselves, but the reason they were there.

“I never understood why he hated me so. Especially on the ride to Wentworth… I didn’t understood why he did those things to me. I was a prisoner, not a dog. I was to be killed anyway. Was that not enough? But…” She sighed heavily, tucking her fichu back into her bodice. “Perhaps I know now. Jonathan was… sick. A sickness that cannot be cured. A sickness in the brain.”

“Nay doubt about that, Claire.”

“Well,” she sighed. “Aren’t we a pair?”


	9. Chapter 9

Stolen kisses and secret touches filled Jamie and Claire’s days. He would catch himself staring at her, more often that he would like to admit. Her beauty, her movements… how could he not? She was mesmerizing.

And she was secretly his.

***

Claire spoke to Colum a week earlier, and was placed in charge of the neglected surgery at the basement of the castle. Jamie was glad for her, that she was able to practice her passion. **  
**

But he missed her greatly.

She spent all hours of the day mending and stitching and staunching. He only saw her during mealtimes, and even then, they had to keep their conversations merely friendly.

Claire wanted to keep their true emotions hidden from everyone. “It’s none of their business,” she’d said. “Besides, your uncle will not be pleased with your… involvement… with a sassenach. I think it’s best we let him warm up to the idea. A frog in boiling water will jump out immediately. Same goes for Himself.”

Although Jamie wanted to parade her on his arm like a show horse, he conceded. Her points were valid, and he couldn’t find a decent reason to disagree.

She sat with him now. After checking over the horses for injuries and sickness, she decided to stay and help him reset their horse shoes

He couldn’t complain; it was more time he get to spend with her.

“Hold the leg steady, if ye please.” She did, her long steady fingers kept a tight grip on the horse. Barely grown, the mare–Ailis–was not as accustomed to the reshoeing as the others, so it was helpful to have another set of hands around. “Perfect. Thank ye, Sassenach.”

“Wonderful.” Claire stroked Ailis’ body softly, a reward for a job well done. “Who’s next?”

“Donas. But, ye dinna need to help me with him. He’s a hell spawn, and ye shouldna be near him.” He was only halfway joking.

“Oh, come, Jamie.”

“Nay, it’s true. He only trusts me, and that trust is as thin as a blade of grass.”

“Well, seeing as I’m not needed, I suppose I’ll go then…”

Jamie grabbed her, preventing her from moving. His lips hovered over her’s. “I didna say that, now did I?”

“People at the castle may need me,” she whispered. He could feel her breath on his face.”

“Damn them. I need ye.” Jamie closed the space then, thoroughly kissing her until they were both red and out of breath.

“Fine. But I must be off soon. I have duties as well.” He grinned at her, a grin of victory. They strolled to Donas, who was heaving and whinnying, making otherworldly sounds. Hell spawn, indeed.

“Lovely creature,” Claire mumbled.

“Aye, But, he’s good at what he does. Which is ride fast.”

“Fast as the devil, you might say.” Jamie threw a grin over his shoulder, hair flying and catching the sunlight. The same color as Donas’ coat.  _Made for each other_ , Claire thought.

He bent down to work, trying to be as fast as possible. He didn’t like being hoof-level with this demon.

“Claire, could ye–”

Jamie couldn’t say what happened exactly, or why. He felt the pain–a hoof– in his forehead. He felt the warm wetness of blood. And then he felt nothing.

He could still see though. Claire above him, looking very much like a guardian angel at that moment. A blue light surrounded her, soft like a candle glow. He let that light lead him into darkness.

***

Jamie woke suddenly, searching. His eyes scanned his surroundings: the stables. Surely, he didn’t fall asleep here…

A small noise came from the corner behind him, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

“You’re alright.” Claire. She was here, still with him. How long had he been asleep?

He turned toward her slowly (grogginess filled his head and made him lethargic), and gasped.

Surely, he was still dreaming. She glowed. Literally glowed, as if her skin was lit from within. Blue, like the brightest stars in the night sky.

“Claire?” She was curled into herself, making herself small. He crawled towards her, curious and afraid.

“Don’t.”

“Claire…”

“Jamie, no.” She held out her hands to stop him. The light from her fingers was the brightest, casting shadows on his face.

“What's… I… what’s going on?”

“Donas kicked you.” She jerked her head toward the beast in question. “Right on your head. You were bleeding. And… an injury to the head is… can be fatal. I didn’t mean to use it. I’ve hidden it away for years. But I was… there was nothing else I could do, not here.”

Perhaps it was the injury, or perhaps she was rambling, but Jamie was thoroughly confused.

“What?”

“I… healed you, Jamie. With my hands.” She wiggled her fingers in demonstration; the glow had significantly dimmed through their conversation. “I should have told you about it. But, I never thought to use it again. Never wanted to.”

Jamie thought. And thought. He wasn’t sure how long he thought (time seemed to stop altogether), but he could only think of one word. “So, ye’re a w… a–”

“A witch?”

“Aye. That one.”

“Some people may say that. But I can only heal, nothing else. No spells, no charms, no hexes.”

“And when others began to call ye a witch…”

“I suppose they were more right than they knew.”

Janie nodded. “Does… does anyone else know?”

“No! No, and they can’t know. In a small village such as this? They’d burn me for sure.”

Janie began to crawl toward her again, until they were face to face. He took her hands–which were now back to their original state– and kissed them. “Yer secret is safe with me, Sassenach.”

Claire grinned, but her eyebrows creased. “You’re taking this awfully well.”

“I suppose… I just… I care for ye, no matter the circumstance. This was an unforeseen circumstance, but it does no change my feelings about ye. It’s still ye. I accepted everything about ye a long time ago. The things ye told me, the things ye didna.  And if I dinna love all of ye, I dinna love ye at all. Does that make sense?”

Her grinned broadened into a full smile. “Yes. But, Jamie…?”

“Aye?”

“Did you just tell me that you love me?”

He did use the word ‘love’ didn’t he? “I suppose I did.”

“Well, I love you too.”

***

Jamie floated, his spirit lifted by love. They had decided to make their courtship known. Or, at least they didn’t try to hide it anymore. Which was good, because Jamie wasn’t sure how much longer he could have kept up that act.

They didn’t speak again of Claire's… abilities. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer.

It was fine, though. Such things kept shelter in the back of their minds, unimportant to everyday life. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.

In so few words, they were happy. Content.

So, it was strange to see the pathetic drop of Jamie’s face as he entered the hall for dinner.

“Jamie? What’s wrong?” Concern laced Claire’s voice, for surely there was something great amiss.

“Hmm?” He asked distractedly as he sat. “Oh, nothing for ye to concern herself over.”

She gave him a look. A ‘quit your nonsense’ look.”

He sighed. “It’s Losgann, aye?”

“The pregnant mare?”

“Aye. She… went too hard today. It’s my fault really. I thought walking her would help her begin labor sooner.”

“What happened?”

“Something with her leg. I dinna ken exactly what. A break, or a tear.”

Understanding dawned on Claire. “You’ll have to shoot her.” It wasn’t a question.

Jamie sighed. “Aye. Alec wants her to foal first. Duille is still producing milk, so he’ll give the foal to her.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I know how much you cared about Losgann.”

“Aye, she’s a good lass. Sweet and steady. It’s a shame.”

“Yes, a shame.”

***

Claire snuck out of the castle under the coming dusk. She wasn’t proud, but if she could help… then she couldn’t just stand by doing nothing.

The stables were dark, of course. With everyone eating or in bed, there was no need for the sconces to be lit. It didn’t matter, though. She didn’t need light for what she was about to do.

She counted the stalls, Losgann being in the sixth one on the left. She could hear her from far off though, small whuffs of pain blowing noisily from her nose. Poor thing.

Claire entered the stall quietly, speaking softly in Gaelic.

“ _Hello. It’s me, Claire. Remember? I’m here to help. Hush, dear one. I’ll not hurt you.”_

She watched the mare closely as she bent to the injured leg. She had never healed an animal before, but surely it wouldn’t be so different. Wrapping her fingers gently around the limb, Claire opened her mind to the workings of the body.

She saw it then, a small break in the bone. A hairline fracture. The healing would be quick, then.

Pressing her fingers tighter around the leg, Claire focused on the fracture: what it looked like, what it felt like, the pain. Then she focused on what it should look like, what it should feel like.

She saw the blue glow from behind her eyelids. It was working, then. Claire was ecstatic, but could not spare more than a second’s thought on it. Distracted, the healing might not work.

Pushing, pushing health and wellness into the horse, Claire felt herself grow tired. But, she could not stop. Would not stop.

It might have been seconds, it might have been days, but finally the bone knitted the fracture back together. Exhausted, Claire slumped against the stall wall.

“I knew it.” She hadn’t heard anyone come into the stables. Of course she wouldn’t, not with what she was doing.

She glanced up to see yellow hair shining in the moon glow.

It was the pretty girl, the one Claire caught Jamie with all that time ago. Laoghaire.

The laugh that barked out of her was anything but pretty. “I always thought ye were odd. I was right. Ye’re a witch.”

She had seen everything.


	10. Chapter 10

“Is that how ye entranced Jamie? Did ye cast a spell on him?” Laoghaire reached inside her cloak, pulling a shadow from its depths. **  
**

Claire was stuck, caught in the corner of Losgann’s stall, staring down the barrel of a gun.

“No, Laoghaire. You don’t understand–”

“I know what I saw!!” Her hand quivered, the pistol shaking dangerously.

“But you don’t understand. If you let me explain…”

Her answer was short and determined. “Nay.”

“At least… at least put the gun down. Please. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Claire began to stand slowly, hands outstretched in surrender.

“Of course I do!” It was a lie. She held it incorrectly, all the more dangerous for it.

“Fine. Of course. You’re a braw, smart woman.” Claire spoke to her as if she were a child, slow and soothing. And, in a way, she was a child. Only sixteen.

“He was mine, ye ken? We were supposed to be together!”

“I… Jamie?”

“Aye! And ye stole him! Hexed him! Now, he doesna look at me!” Tear tracks shown brightly on her face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I didn’t mean to… to focus his attention on me. But, dear… he was never yours.”

Laoghaire cracked then, sobs echoing from all corners of the stables. She stalked closer to Claire, until the pistol was at her chest.

“He will be. If yer dead.”

Fear spiked in Claire, her blood running cold. This woman–girl– deadly serious. She would murder Claire, here in the stables. Sweat began to trickle down her temples.

“Laoghaire… do you know what they do to murderers?”

She laughed again. A harsh sound; beautiful, but hateful. “I’ll no kill ye  _Claire_ ,” she sneered in derision. “No, no. I’ll tell Colum, and have his magistrates do it for me. I hope ye like it… warm.”

And she was off, scuttling out of the stables before Claire could stop her. Her hair flew behind her, a banner announcing a death. Claire’s death.

Was this it? After all her running, her deception, would she finally meet the pyre? Was it her destiny after all?

She collapsed, tears streaming. She would never marry again, never bear children. Images of Jamie flashed behind her eyes; laughing, smiling, kissing her. Strengthening her.

No. This would not be it. She would survive. She always did.

***

Jamie woke, his lungs constricted. He gasped, hands grappling at his chest. Instead, he found a warm body atop him.

“Jamie. Are you awake?” Sweet breath fanned his face.

“Uh… aye, Sassenach. What… what are ye doing?” He sat up, Claire still straddling his hips.

“I needed to speak with you.”

“And it couldna wait til morning? What time is it?”

“Nigh on 2, I expect. And it couldn’t.”

That grabbed his attention. He began to notice something… off about her. Her voice was frantic, her hands trembled where they rested on his shoulders. He was on full alert.

“What’s going on, Claire?”

“I have to leave.”

“Where are we going?”

Her teeth shone in the darkness, a small, sad smile. “You’re staying here. I’m leaving.”

“What?” He sat up even further, completely straight-backed, almost knocking Claire to the ground in the process. He grasped her hips tightly. It was then he noticed that she was fully clothed. “Claire, what’s happening?”

“I was in the stables. I wanted to help Losgann. I could help her. So I did.”

Jamie waited patiently; this wasn’t the end of the story.

“Laoghaire saw me. I didn’t hear her come in, but she saw everything. And now…” She took a deep breath, calming her anxious voice. “Now she’s going to tell Colum, and they’ll have me tried, of not burned outright. I can't… I can’t be here anymore.”

“I’m coming with ye.” Jamie put as much force in this statement as he could.

“No, no. You don’t need to make enemies with your family.”

“I dinna care–”

“I do. You can’t run off with me. Besides, we’ll be slower as a pair. They’ll catch us if they want.”

He was furious. Was he to stay behind, unable to care for this woman? The woman he loved? He let every ounce of irritation pour into his words. “So, ye expect me to just stay here? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs, while yer out God knows where?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “That’s exactly what I expect you to do.”

“Oh, so–” He began, but she cut him off.

“You’ll need them one day, the Mackenzies. They’ve kept you safe in your time of need.” She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’m not saying that you don’t come with me. You just won’t come with me immediately.”

“I dinna understand.”

“I’m leaving tonight. You’ll wait–a week or two– and you’ll leave as well. With their knowledge, of course.”

“And what am I to do with ye gone?”

Claire shook her head. “Just… act heartbroken. Like you didn’t know anything about this.”

Jamie wrapped his hands around Claire’s face. “It willna be an act.” It was only a whisper.

“I just want you safe,” she whispered back. “You don’t want to be associated with me, not now. But we’ll find each other again.”

“How? How will I ken where ye are?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. But, I trust that… that whatever… force thrust us together will bring us together again. You must too.”

“How?”

“Because you have to.”

She kissed him then, gentle, like a bird’s wing. But Jamie wasn’t having that. He grasped her hair hard, pulling and pushing. Inching closer, always needing to be closer. She groaned softly, hands gripping his hips.

He pulled away first. “When I find ye, I’m going to marry ye. And then, we can finish this.” He ended with soft pecks on her eyelids.

“ _Tha gaol agam ort, Seumas.”_

_“Tha gaol agam ort, Sorcha.”_


	11. Chapter 11

Claire didn’t take a horse, opting to escape on foot. Although faster, a horse could be easily tracked should the Mackenzies do so. Instead, she ran, literally. Exhaustion crept over her body quickly, but she could not… _would not_  stop until she was safe. Out of the Mackenzie lands. **  
**

But, where would she go from there? She had no connections, no family.

She pondered as she walked, careful not to disturb the earth around her. Surely there was a place to go …

A plan began to form in her head, pieces slowly fitting together.

Yes… that just might be the place for her…

***

Jamie woke with a heavy heart. His sleep was restless, his dreams tinged with longing. He missed Claire, even while unconscious. This was only the first day. How much longer could he endure this?

***

“Hello!” Jamie groaned, not in the mood for false smiles and small talk. He turned toward the speaker…

Laoghaire.

Did the lass have no shame?

“May I sit with ye? Ye look awfully sad, eating breakfast by yerself.” She flashed him a bonny smile that crinkled her eyes.

He had to admit, if he didn’t know her, he would be charmed by her.

As it were…

“Nay, lass. I’m done with my meal. I’ve got to work.” He would have loved to throttle her, grab her around the throat and shake her.

But he ignored the urge, and turned his back to her, heading for the stables.

***

“Jamie!” Murtagh galloped toward him. “Lad!” Stopping at the gate, he gulped in air before continuing. “Colum wants to see ye. Now, preferably.”

Jamie sighed. He knew what the subject of the conversation would be: Claire. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to speak about her. Not without breaking down completely.

***

Jamie entered Colum’s study, the chirping birds breaking any kind of peace he had.

“Come. Sit.” There were many qualities that Jamie appreciated about Colum. His no nonsense attitude was one of them. “I’ve summoned ye here to ask ye a question: Where is yer lass?”

“My lass?”

“Dinna play the fool. Everyone kens the two of ye were… attached. What I don’t ken is where she is now.”

Janie decided to let his heartbreak work to his advantage. Dropping his careful, impassive mask, he revealed the sadness within. “I dinna ken.”

Colum was taken aback by the apparent honesty. “She didna say anything?”

“No. Why? Why are ye looking for her?”

“She’s needed.”

“Who needs her?”

“Injured folks. Myself. It doesna matter. We’ll find her.”

_Father, into your hands I commend the spirit of your servant Claire…_

***

It grew steadily colder as days passed. Claire was beginning to lose feeling in her toes.

She would stop at an inn when she could. However, she was afraid of the British army, so she kept toward the outskirts of towns.

She had endured so much in her life. She refused to give up in a cold, damp forest.

So, she persisted. Walked, even when it hurt. Ate whenever she could. Survive.

It wasn’t until she crested a hill that she dropped to her knees, letting her body hit the ground.

She was never a religious sort; her uncle never stressed church or God to her when she was a girl. But then, at that moment, she prayed.

***

Jamie woke that morning, listless. He stared at the ceiling; was it even worth getting up?

Claire had been gone for two weeks. The Mackenzies never found a trace of her, which was either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Either she had gotten away, or she was…

No. He shouldn’t even be thinking that. She got away. That was the end of it.

He wanted to go after her. He would go after her. He just needed the right preparations before leaving: money, food, a story explaining  _why_  he was leaving…

He would have all that soon enough.

***

“Jamie!”

“Good morning, Murtagh.” His voice sounded flat even to his own ears.

“Ye’ve got a letter.”

“What?” He never received letters. No one wrote to him; no one had the need.

“Here.” Murtagh handed Jamie the small package. Ripping it open, Jamie noticed its unusually short length. His eyes devoured it quickly.

_Jamie,_

_Come home. Lallybroch is not the same without you. And we miss you. Ian and I. Remember us? Enough of you hiding from us._

_Jenny_

Jamie’s heart fluttered seeing his sister’s name, but it completely stopped at the very end.

_Post scriptum: Read the first letter of every sentence. We shall see you soon._


	12. Chapter 12

Jamie tapped timidly on Colum’s door. He began formulating a plan in his head ever since he received Jenny’s letter. **  
**

Putting first things first, he had to find a way to leave Castle Leoch. Preferably without having to sneak out, but if the worst came to the worst…

“Come in.”

Jamie screwed his face into a mask of distracted concern. He hoped his acting was acceptable enough to fool Colum.

“Oh, Jamie. Come sit.”

He did just that, making sure to drag his feet a little to play up his sadness.

“I must ask ye something, Uncle,” he rasped.

“Aye, what seems to be the problem, lad. Ye werena this upset when yer witch lady left.”

Jamie chose to ignore that comment; this was not the time to start an argument. “I received a letter today, ye ken?”

“I did not.”

“Well, it came from Lallybroch. From Jenny. She's… ill. A physician came to see her, but he didna ken what was wrong. I'm… afraid for her. I dinna… I dinna want anything… to happen to her, and I dinna see her…”

He knew this would touch Colum close to his heart. Although he was angry with Jamie’s mother–his sister– for many years, Jamie knew he regretted never speaking to her before she died.

It was working. Jamie saw the softening of brows, the diminishing frown. “And ye wish to go see her?”

“Aye, Uncle. Very much so.”

“Ye’ll need a horse.”

“Two, Uncle. Murtagh wishes to see her as well.”

Colum sighed heavily. “Very well. Ask Mrs. Fitz for some provisions.”

“Thank ye.”

Jamie stood to leave. As he reached the door, his uncle spoke again. “But, I expect ye back at the castle afterward.”

He didn’t look back. “Aye.”

At that moment, Jamie wasn’t going to tell Colum that he would never be back.

***

Murtagh leaned cautiously beside Colum’s door, straining his ears. Jamie had come up with a plan, he said. A way to convince his uncle to let them leave without repercussions.

That boy was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. Charming as his mother and stubborn as his father, Jamie knew how to rope Murtagh into anything.

And all for a woman?

He supposed Mistress Beauchamp was a good woman, if not a bit strange. And she had captured the lad’s heart fully.

But, damn, he hoped she was worth all of this trouble.

Murtagh flinched at the sound of the heavy wooden door slamming. Jamie’s flaming head appeared, dancing in the torchlight.

A single glance, and a nod was all he received for an answer.

Tonight, they would ride.

***

“Yer awfully quiet, lad.” Murtagh broke the silence that had plagued them since the left Castle Leoch.

Jamie didn’t turn toward him, keeping his body straight and forward facing. “Aye.”

“What’s wrong with ye?” Murtagh was never one to mince words. Tact wasn’t his strongest quality.

“Nothing.”

“Weel, ye dinna much look like a man that is on his way to see his love.”

“It’s no Claire I’m worried about. It’s Jenny.” Murtagh didn’t respond, but merely raised a brow. “I havena seen her in years. I’m no a brother to her. Not as I should be.  Her bairns dinna ken me, and I dinna ken them.”

“Hush. Family is family, lad. Time doesna change blood.”

Jamie’s lips twitched into a half smile. “I ken that. But–”

“Dinna worry sae much. Yer just suffering for a problem that hasna happened yet.”

“Hmph.” Jamie tilted his head toward Murtagh. “I dinna ken ye were so… smart.”

“Weel. Ye should pay attention more often.”

***

Lallybroch was a white speck in the distance. Jamie felt his heart beat faster, harder.

Squaring his shoulders and repeating Murtagh’s words in his mind, Jamie urged Donas forward.

***

The dogs began to bark before Jamie even stepped foot on the property. His scent had become unfamiliar to them.

“Luke! Hush! If ye wake wee Maggie, I’ll throttle ye!” The voice’s familiarity warmed Jamie’s wame.

“Ian,” Jamie said, barely loud enough over the barking. But, it reached Ian’s ears, and he perked up.

“Jamie!” His kind, good humored face broke out into a grin. “We were wondering if ye’d show up!”

And, with that, Ian hobbled over to him, unsteady in the early morning’s exhaustion. Jamie met the smaller man halfway, and enveloped him in a hug.

“It’s good to see ye, mo charaid,” Ian whispered against his shoulder.

“Aye. I’ve missed ye.” Jamie patted Ian’s back before pulling away. “Where’s Jenny?”

“Asleep, still. With Maggie.”

“Maggie?”

“Our youngest. Only a couple weeks old.”

Jamie sighed, full of regret. “I’ve missed so much…”

“Aye, but ye can make it up to us later. But someone has been waiting for ye.”

“How is she?” Jamie was anxious to get to Claire.

“Fine, fine. She was a bit road weary when she came to us, and sick. Feverish. But, she told us about ye when she was well.”

“And ye trusted her?” Jamie was surprised they did, but not unhappy about it.

“Weel, Jenny was a bit less trusting of her. But, when she helped Jenny deliver Maggie… I suppose that formed a bond, ye ken?”

“She delivered a child?” Jamie was shocked– not because Claire helped birth a baby; he knew she was more than capable, but that Jenny would let her.

“Aye. Quite a woman, that Claire.”

“Where is she?”

“I dinna ken. I would say in bed, but she hasna been sleeping well since she arrived. I wouldna be surprised if she was roaming the house.”

Jamie was suddenly overcome with emotion. “Thank ye, Ian. For taking care of them: Jenny and Claire.”

“Oh… hush, now. Go find Claire. I’ll help Murtagh with the horses.”

***

Thankfully, Claire wasn’t far. Jamie saw her form, hunched in front of the fire in the sitting room.

“Claire.”

She turned toward him. He saw how pale and thin she had become; it was amazing what a few weeks of harshness could do to a body. But she was there, complete and well.

She smiled. It was a smile that crinkled her eyes and morphed her face into a beam of light. Despite everything, she was radiant.

She spoke then, with low, soothing tones he had become so familiar with in the past months.

“You found me.”


End file.
